


Urgent Meeting

by taylor_tut



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Delirium, Fever, Gen, Protective Avengers, Sick Character, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14593365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A prompt from my tumblr: When Tony doesn't show up for an Avengers meeting, Peter is elected to drag him up from the workshop--only to find him bioling up and delirious.





	Urgent Meeting

“Boss, Captain Rogers has called an urgent meeting,” FRIDAY announced, startling Tony from his lab-couch slumber. “Unless you allow me to alert the Avengers of your physical state, you will be expected to attend.”

Like hell that was happening. 

“Ready in a sec,” he replied, but as soon as he stood, everything spun and left him on his ass in his workshop, waiting for the world to stop moving so much. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there with his eyes closed, but the next thing he was aware of was the sound of footsteps coming toward him from the elevator. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter called, sounding slightly exasperated, “meeting time. Come on, whatever you’re working on can wait.”

The kid was wearing the Spidey Suit. If he was wearing the suit--shit, this wasn’t a meeting, it was a call to assemble, and every minute he wasted here in the workshop was keeping his team in danger. 

 

Clint groaned. 

“I thought you said calling this bullshit ‘urgent’ would get Stark to get his ass in here faster,” he accused. 

“I thought it would!” Peter pouted.

“Enough,” Steve shut down the argument before it could start proper, “one of you, go get him, please?” 

“He’s less likely to eat Peter,” Bruce offered. “I mean, of the two of you.” 

“He wouldn’t eat Agent Barton, either,” Peter argued. He hesitated. “He’d just feed you to Dum-E.”

Clint shuddered. “Go,” he commanded, pointing Peter toward the elevator. 

In honesty, the meeting was not urgent. Even calling it a cleanup mission would be to play it fast and loose with the word “mission.” Really, Steve (read: Fury via Steve) was demanding that the Avengers start picking up after themselves once in a while, starting with the big mess they’d made in Central Park the day before. 

However, knowing Tony, if they didn’t hype it up like it was a life or death scenario, he’d never show up.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter called, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone, “meeting time. Come on, whatever you’re working on can wait.”

Tony looked up at Peter with wild, unfocused eyes. His hair was spiked up in ways that could only happen from falling asleep on his hands, and it quickly became clear that Tony hadn’t come upstairs because he hadn’t been awake to hear it. 

“Oh, shit,” Tony cursed, “that. Urgent. Shit.” Now, Peter felt bad about using a clickbait headline to try to get an obviously exhausted Tony to respond. 

“Not that big a deal,” Peter confessed as Tony scrambled toward the wall where the Iron Man suit lived. 

His movements were sluggish and he ended up collapsing into the wall and needing to steady himself upright before he could actually stand. 

“Jeez, Mr. Stark, where’s the fire?” Peter joked nervously. Tony was going to KILL him when he found out what the “big emergency” was.

Tony whipped around to face Peter, shook his head like he was trying to work out what he’d even just been asked, then pounded at the door of the suit’s closet.

“I cannot allow you to operate the suit at present, Boss,” FRIDAY said, refusing to open the door. 

“Override,” Tony bit, “gotta assemble.” 

With a reluctant beep, the door opened, effectively wiping out Tony’s balance and sending him toppling backward into Peter. It should not be taking this long for Tony to wake up. 

“FRIDAY, can you send--,” he frowned, “whoever Tony would feel most comfortable with down here?” 

FRIDAY seemed relieved, and Peter helped ease Tony to the ground in the pause. He’d never seen Tony wake up from a PTS nightmare, but if this is what it was like… 

No wonder he never slept.

“Mr. Stark, it’s okay,” Peter tried to reassure him, “whatever you were seeing, it wasn’t real.” 

The elevator opened and Clint stood in the doorway.

“Peter?” he called, and Peter stuck his hand up in the air. 

“Over here,” he replied. “I think--something’s not right with Mr. Stark,” Peter fumbled. “He was just waking up when I got here… Do you think it’s a nightmare?”

One look at Tony answered that for Clint. 

“Ah, Jesus, Tones,” he muttered. “No, kiddo, I don’t think this is a nightmare.” 

It had taken alarmingly long for Tony to even register that Clint was next to him, but the first thing that he noticed upset him quite a lot.

“You’re not in y’r gear,” he objected, fighting off Clint’s hands as they grappled for his face. 

“Yeah, cause we’re not assembled, dummy,” he explained. The robot chirped and tried to whir toward them. “Not you. The other dummy.” 

Tony stopped fighting Clint’s care for long enough to look confusedly at Peter. 

“I’m only in the suit because I spilled macaroni and cheese on my shirt and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of Captain America,” he admitted, and even as half-conscious as Tony was, he rolled his eyes. 

“We’re not assembling,” Clint reiterated, “so you’re okay. Get your hands,” he commanded, pulling Tony out of the suit’s closet, “out of your gauntlets and tell me what’s going on.”

Tony relaxed so suddenly that Peter thought for a second he’d passed out. 

“Dunno,” Tony admitted. “Fell asleep at the bench with a headache. Woke up… ngh,” he finished eloquently with a whine. 

“Can I touch you?” Clint asked this time before making a move, and when Tony didn’t object, he easily pressed a hand to Tony’s forehead and winced. 

“Definitely not a nightmare,” he mumbled, turning to Peter. “He’s burning up.” 

“I’m going to get Captain Rogers,” Peter announced, but before he could even stand up, the elevator had deposited Thor and Bruce in his lab. 

“The boss is most comfortable with Thor and Dr. Banner,” FRIDAY supplied, “so I have asked them to assist.”

Bruce helped Clint off the ground while Thor effortlessly picked up Tony. 

“Bed or hospital?” Bruce asked, and while Clint looked torn, he eventually shrugged. 

“I think he’s okay in bed for now,” he decided tentatively, “but only if we can get the fever down.” 

 

When Tony woke up again, Clint was playing a video game in the half of the bed Tony wasn’t bundled up in.

“Gross,” Tony complained within seconds of consciousness, “why am I all damp and sticky?”

Clint turned his nose up. “I’d say it’s either because you were running a temperature of 104, or because it’s normal perfectly normal for boys your age,” he snarked. 

Tony laughed through his nose. “Funny,” he bit back. “So, 104, huh? What happened? I don’t really remember much.”

Clint nodded. “Not surprising,” he agreed. “Peter went to get you for a meeting and found you in some kind of delirium. You thought we were assembling, you thought Thor was He-Man, you thought--”

“I  _ what _ ?” 

“You were pretty out of it,” Clint summed up. “Thought we were gonna have to take you to the ER for a minute, but eventually the aspirin kicked in.” 

“So what’s it at now?” he asked. “I still feel like shit.”

“Your core temperature is presently 102.2 degrees,” FRIDAY cut in. 

“Ugh.”

Clint pulled Tony’s blanket back up to his chin. 

“Keep sleeping,” he instructed. “I’m babysitting, so if you need anything…” he trailed off. 

Tony nodded. “Thanks,” he said. The silence was so tense, Tony couldn’t stop himself from asking “am I in trouble?” like a scolded child.

“Nah,” Clint dismissed, “at least, I don’t think so. FRIDAY said you fell asleep feeling more or less okay, but you were asleep at your bench for like 14 hours, so… I don’t think it’s really anything you did wrong.” He patted Tony’s leg reassuringly. “Sometimes shit just happens.”

“I feel bad about freaking everyone out.”

“No you don’t,” Clint argued, “you feel bad about freaking Peter out. You’ve thrown yourself into orbit while the rest of us were watching without a second thought.”

Tony couldn’t argue with that.

“Don’t worry,” Clint said. “Once he sees you’re alive and as annoying as ever, he’ll forget this ever happened.” Tony sighed in relief. 

“I, however,” Clint continued, “will be holding the He-Man thing over your head until one of us dies.”

“It’ll be you if you bring it up ever again,” Tony grunted as he drifted back to sleep.

 


End file.
